


Fool's game

by Timaelan



Series: Backfire [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Cheating, Family Drama, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27424747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timaelan/pseuds/Timaelan
Summary: What is it you dream of? If you could make a wish, what would you wish for? ... Nothing.And yet, there's something amiss in Trunks Briefs' life. Maybe he's played a fool's game one time too many. But Fool's games always end the same anyway, don't they?And everyone has to pay cash.
Relationships: Trunks Briefs/Marron, Trunks Briefs/Son Goten
Series: Backfire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003650
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there.
> 
> This story comes with "Your hands around my throat" as a prequel focusing on Trunks and Goten. Both stories can be read separately but they somehow spoil each other a tiny bit. 
> 
> Also be warned that even if you'll find some kinks in there, you'll get drama and disturbing situations too, so don't expect the romance to be very sweet.

_What is it you dream of? If you could make a wish, what would you wish for?_

_Nothing._

As a matter of fact, there was nothing Trunks Briefs could still be dreaming of. He had everything.

Health, with an underlying promise of eternal youth.

Money, and not only from his family but also from his personal success in business.

Love, mostly vowed by his beautiful wife and two fabulous kids.

Oh, and of course, coming with that, respect, and admiration from everyone.

Really. What could Trunks Briefs still be dreaming of?

Nothing.

Yet, now and then, he had the weird sensation that something was missing. The feeling was faint and it hardly lingered more than a minute. He always shrugged it off easily, thinking it was a normal thing happening to anyone. Nothing to worry about.

That morning wasn’t different as he chose to ignore that swift unease that sometimes popped up in his mind.

He was just done adjusting his tie, facing absently his reflection in the mirror and listing all the things he'd been blessed with, and he decided once again that this slight weariness was definitely nothing to worry about.

His musing was cut off by shouts echoing up from downstairs and real life was back. He repressed a sigh and hurried down to the kitchen where the argument was taking place.

The kids were sitting at the breakfast table, side by side, neatly dressed for school, while their mother was standing near the kitchen counter with an upset face, her fists balled in contained anger. « What did the hell go through your head, Vegeta ? » she barked at her son.

She broke off as she saw her husband standing on the doorstep. « Admire your son's feat! » she exclaimed, pointing at the teenage boy.

Trunks' eyes shifted to his son, but he didn't notice anything unusual at first. The kid was wearing the uniform of his school, ready to go like every morning.

« Look at his hair, » Marron snapped in irritation as he was slow to understand.

Only then, did Trunks notice that the black mane the boy had inherited from his grandfather was streaked by a small blond lock.

Trunks had to chew his lips to repress his urge to chuckle. He knew that his wife would get even more annoyed if he showed the slightest sign of amusement at the situation though, so he cleared his throat instead. « Well, huh, they won't like it at school, will they? » he stated.

Marron’s eyes widened. Wrong answer. “At school?” she hissed. “It’s not about school, for God’s sake. Don’t you see? He looks like a thug. What will people think? Figure, he’s to take over Capsule Corp, one day. What’s next? Piercing? Drugs?”

Trunks ran his hand through his hair. Marron was used to overdoing things whenever it was about the kids. To anyone, the boy only bore a tied streak, but to his mother, he’d taken the first step down the hill of excess and he would doubtlessly slide straight to a hell of depravity.

Even though Trunks was aware that his wife was overreacting, he knew better than arguing with her, especially considering the way his 15-year old son was glaring at his mother. The last thing Trunks wanted was to add more tensions between the two. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that,” he resumed in a soft voice. With that, he walked to her and kissed her gently on the cheek.

She eased off and her angry frown gave way to a concerned pout. His attention still had this effect on her after all the years. He was able to reassure her.

“You know we have to watch him out now. He’s going through a tough age,” she whispered so that the kids wouldn’t hear them.

He nodded with a knowing smile and stepped away to his daughter.

Berry’s face had frozen in a quiet panic. Fights always scared her. The 8-year old girl was a shy, sweet nature and she had a hard time coping with any form of aggressivity. He caressed her blonde curls to comfort her. “What do you think, Berry? Vegeta looks like he’s jealous of your hair,” he joked.

She giggled at the thought, ignoring her brother’s grumpy huff.

Berry’s laughter was the finest music in the world to Trunks’ ears, and even Marron’s fuel mood couldn’t resist the child’s cheer.

Trunks smiled. The strain of the argument was fading away and Marron pouring him some coffee with a small sigh was a sign that drama was over for now.

He didn’t bother to sit down as he sipped the coffee thoughtfully with his eyes locked on his boy. Vegeta was quite his sister’s opposite. He’d always been bad-tempered, but now that he was a teenager, he got upset even more easily. Always frustrated and rebellious to anything.

He didn’t get along very well with his mother as of late. Marron had always hated to get out of her zone of comfort and over the years, that zone had grown awfully tight while Vegeta wanted anything more than exploring the world out of it. And considering they were both stubborn as hell, Trunks knew there were great clashes to come between the two.

He glanced at his watch and put hastily his mug down. “Ok, kids, time to go, now.”

Helping Berry with her bag, he headed to the front door after a last kiss on his wife’s cheek. Vegeta followed them suit with his head down, a frown still upon his face.

Trunks had always insisted that they shouldn’t have any staff at home. A cleaning Lady would help once in the week since the house was big, and a gardener was coming by when needed but otherwise, he was adamant that no one would work full-time in his home. There was no driver, no cook, no maid.

Marron had pleaded to hire at least a maid but she’d never coaxed him. He enjoyed his intimacy. He enjoyed living in a house that wasn’t a showcase for the perfect decorating style. He also enjoyed driving his kids to school.

He couldn’t do it every morning, but whenever his schedule allowed it, it was a moment he cherished. Just spending some time alone with them.

This morning, Vegeta’s brooding was somewhat spoiling the pleasure though.

“I won’t remove it,” the boy grumbled as he was sitting in the passenger seat next to his father.

“I know,” Trunks replied calmly, knowing perfectly his son was referring to his blond lock.

“Why did you tell Mum you’d take care of it, then? What are you gonna do about it?” Vegeta huffed.

Trunks just smiled at the question.

“Mummy is gonna be really, really mad if you keep it, Vegeta,” Berry claimed sternly from behind. She sounded like she was announcing a very serious disaster which made Trunks’ grin even wider. Her mother’s yelling looked certainly like a very serious disaster to her.

“Care like shit,” Vegeta mumbled.

“Language!” Berry exclaimed in utter indignation.

“What do you think, Berry?” Trunks asked. “Do you like your brother’s hair like that?”

He could see the girl pouting as she was thinking hard of an answer. “It’d be nicer in pink,” she eventually said.

“I’m not one of your stupid doll, dummy!” Vegeta grunted.

“I’m not a dummy, and I don’t need to tie my hair for mine are already perfect. Not like the silly duster you carry on your head!” Berry shot back.

“Quiet,” her father cut off as Vegeta was turning to the backseat in an attempt to hit his sister.

“Berry, you’re there, honey,” Trunks carried on while stopping the car along the sidewalk.

Vegeta gestured at the girl and Trunks suspected he was giving her the finger. She stuck her tongue out at him and climbed down the car, staying carefully out of reach of her brother.

“Have a nice day,” Trunks greeted her through the window.

Then, he turned to his son and watched him silently for a moment. Vegeta was glaring defiantly back at him.

“Let’s make a deal,” Trunks offered.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes in wariness. There was no way he would yield to his parents’ will about his hair.

Trunks drove away to head to Vegeta’s school. “You can keep your hair that way,” Trunks claimed.

The boy frowned in puzzlement. “Can I?”

“Yeah. In return, I want you to hide the blonde streak when at home. Your mother mustn’t see it. As much as I can see, it shouldn’t be very hard, it’s a thin lock.”

Vegeta crossed his arms with a huff. “What’s the point of tying my hair if I can’t show it?”

“You can show it. Just not to your mother,” Trunks resumed patiently.

“And what will you do if I do?” Vegeta asked cautiously.

“I’ll find a way to get rid of it once and for all,” Trunks warned cryptically.

His son looked up at him, trying to read his intentions in his eyes.

“You know I will, Vegeta and you don’t want that,” Trunks insisted. His tone had turned stern and hard despite his soft voice.

The boy gritted his teeth. As a result, his jaw was slightly bulging in a manner that was very close to his grandfather’s whenever he was annoyed.

“Deal?” Trunks asked as he stopped the car for the second time.

The teenager snorted and grabbed his bag to open the door of the car. Trunks caught his wrist to prevent him from going away. “Deal?” he repeated.

“Deal,” Vegeta sighed after a last hesitation.

“Have a nice day, son,” Trunks resumed by letting go of him.

He contemplated the kid casually making his way through a wide lawn to the front door of the school. A crowd of other teenagers, all dressed up with the same uniform, were wandering around him. In a way, it was no wonder that the boy needed to stand out.

Marron had always been hell-bent on having their kids in expansive private schools. It was up to their social standing and to their parental expectations after all. Yet, sometimes Trunks wondered if it was really up to their kids’ needs. Vegeta had a hard time fitting into these conventional schools with so many rules.

The ringing of his phone interrupted Trunks’ thoughts. He took the device out of his pocket and watched the number displayed on the screen. It was unregistered and he didn’t recognize it. He picked up without giving it much thought.

“Trunks Briefs?” He greeted, all by locking his eyes back on his son walking in the distance.

“Oh, Mr. Briefs? No kidding? Huh, well, good morning. Imogene Zuliguiev. Lawyer. I hope I don’t bother you. Mr. Goten Son gave me your number and, huh, honestly, I’m pretty surprised that it’s truly yours,” a woman’s voice chuckled.

Trunks flinched at the name of Goten and he forgot everything about his son. “Goten? Why did Goten give you my phone number?”

“Well, he said you’d help us,” the woman said.

“Help you? For what? Why didn’t he call me directly?” Trunks asked warily.

“Because he can’t, Mr. Briefs. He’s currently in jail.”

Something dropped into Trunks’ stomach. He hadn’t heard of Goten in a while. He wouldn’t even be able to tell when was last time he’d spoken to him at this moment. Months? Years maybe. His life was so busy, he'd somehow lost track of time. Not to mention Goten had gone his own personal way, far from Trunks' lifestyle… Anyway, Goten was still Goten and he was _in jail_.

“Are you still there?” the woman resumed.

“What’s your name again?” Trunks asked.

“Imogene Zuliguiev. I’m his lawyer.”

“So, you say Goten is in jail? What the hell happened?”

“I can’t tell you that, but the thing is he wants to see you. He’s very persistent about it. He says you’re the only one to, I quote, ‘ _be able to drag him out of this shit_ ’. What do you think?”

Trunks rubbed his face in disbelief. “When can I see him?” he eventually groaned.

“Huh. So, you accept to go visit him? No offense, but are you really the Trunks Brief running the Capsule Corp? The guy they have in the papers with that strange lilac hair?” the woman answered.

Trunks pouted in annoyance at the question. “When can I see him?” he just repeated coldly.

She kept quiet for an instant. Her silence sounded like hesitation but just when Trunks was about to add something, she resumed. “It’s not so simple, Mr. Briefs. I’ll need you to send me some papers so that I’ll get special authorization for you and the prison is a two-hours drive.”

Trunks mulled over the words, taping his nervous fingers against the wheel of the car and staring absently at the now deserted neighborhood as the classes had begun.

“My lawyer will contact you to settle things up. I’ll be at the prison by the end of the afternoon,” he eventually concluded.

“Well, what?...”

He hung up before the woman could word any objection and threw his phone on the passenger seat with a concerned sigh.

Goten, his little personal mess was back in his life, it seemed.


	2. Chapter 2

The prison was a grey fortress sticking out like a sore thumb in a flat, grassy landscape, ten kilometers away from the nearest village.

Trunks reached the place at the end of the afternoon as the sun was starting its slow way down to the horizon. Since he couldn’t reasonably fly, he’d been bound to a two hours drive through the dull countryside and it had left him nervous and frustrated.

Despite the Capsule’s lawyers’ best efforts, Imogene Zuliguive hadn’t said a word about the reason why Goten had been imprisoned. The only thing she had been willing to share was that it was a serious matter and that her client was hell-bent on talking to Trunks.

Trunks had been seething the whole day at the situation. Yet, driving into the prison’s enclosure turned his blood to ice. The outer walls were flanked by watchtowers and equipped with barbed wires running atop of them. Inside, the area was cut into two parts. A free zone where a wide, empty parking lot was bordered by administrative buildings and a secured zone where three massive buildings with narrow windows were standing in a U-shape, forming a large yard closed by a gate.

Trunks flinched at the thought that Goten was captive somewhere in that awful place. It couldn't be true. Somehow, there had been a mistake at some point. Goten didn't belong to such a shithole and no matter what the problem was, Trunks would clear it out.

He parked his car near the gate of the yard. There was no one around except for a bulky little woman with varicolored clothes standing alone in front of the heavy doors.

He squinted at her as he climbed out of his car and she gave him a beam from afar. As incredible as it stood, she had to be Imogene Zuliguiev. The irking woman standing up to his will and denying him any information about Goten since this morning.

He was caught off guard by her strange look. As a matter of fact, all the lawyers that Trunks knew were used to classy, professional outfit, while Imogene Zuliguiev apparently had a strong liking for vivid colors clashing with each other.

As Trunks walked to her, he couldn’t prevent himself from studying the unlikely purple of her wide shirt, overshadowed by the garish pink of her lipstick. To top it all, the orange of her hair had a hard time covering her greyish locks. Definitely not the type of lawyers he usually dealt with.

She stretched out her hand. “Mr. Briefs. In flesh and bones,” she greeted with what was actually more like a wolfish grin than a beam.

He shook her hand and noted that her grip was surprisingly strong. “Mrs. Zuliguiev, good afternoon. Nice to meet you.”

“I bet it’s nice to meet me. Your lawyer went through a lot to arrange this visit so quickly. You sure know how to get what you want, don’t you?” she stated with a raucous, smoker’s chuckle.

He felt uncomfortable at her familiar, straightforward manners and he disliked the way she was teasing him. He suspected that the woman enjoyed the fact that someone like him needed her.

“Is everything in order?” he asked to change the subject of the discussion.

“Of course, it is. Follow me.”

She turned around and went to the gate. She pressed a button at the door and after a moment it buzzed open, allowing them to walk into the yard. The place was deserted as well and it made the atmosphere even gloomier.

“How is it that someone like Mr. Son knows someone like you?” she asked as they made their way across the yard.

“We’re childhood friends,” Trunks briefly explained.

“Yeah, that’s what he told me too, yet… I still wonder how a boy from Mount Paozu can be the childhood friend of the Capsule’s heir raised in West City.”

Trunks was only half-listening to her. He was studying the buildings where the prisoners were certainly living. The windows were very small, all secured with bars, and he couldn’t say there were a lot of them. He could hardly imagine what it was to spend months or years in here and the thought of Goten twisted his guts.

“My mother and his father knew each other very well,” Trunks eventually replied absently as they reached the entrance of the main building.

The woman pressed another button and grabbed the handle of the door in wait for a reply. “Mr. Son’s father?” She carried on, “He was a martial artist, right? Even a world champion if I remember well. Huh, I didn’t know Bulma Briefs had a liking for Martial Arts.”

“She hasn’t,” Trunks groaned in annoyance as he had no will for small-talk right now.

Imogene Zugiliev stared up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe she has a liking for Martial Artists, then?”

Trunks froze as he realized that the questioning wasn’t a polite discussion. “Are you hinting that I could be an illegitimate child my Mum had with Goten’s father?” he hissed defiantly.

She shrugged, unimpressed by his accusing tone. “Mr. Son would be your brother then. This could be the reason why a busy, important man like you shows up within a few hours to rescue him. I’m just trying to connect the dots. See, I like to know on what kind of ice I’m walking.”

Trunks gritted his teeth. Keeping in mind that he would possibly need this woman to help Goten, he deemed it wiser not to alienate her for now and he contained his anger. “You’re not walking on any ice. Just do your job and let me see him,” he sighed in annoyance.

“Okay, okay,” she chanted with an irritating nonchalance just when the door buzzed open.

She guided him inside to a locker room where she told him to leave his phone and any metallic item he wouldn’t need inside. After that, they went to a counter where a woman in uniform checked their id and some papers Zuliguiev showed her before giving them badges.

Then, another door was unlocked and they went through another corridor and another security gate.

“Anyway, if you want me to do my job, I’ll need to know everything he tells you,” the lawyer resumed as they entered a waiting room.

Trunks glared at her. “Why is that?” Trunks asked.

She cocked her head with a slight frown. “Because he refused to tell me anything. The only thing he’s said was that he wanted to see you.”

Trunks frowned in disbelief. Did that mean that Goten hadn’t spoken to her about whatever sent him to prison? The whole matter was getting weirder and weirder, making him more curious and concerned than ever.

She sat down in a chair and crossed her arms. “I’ll be there when you’re done,” she claimed when a guard showed up.

“Come with me,” he said to Trunks.

The young man glanced a last time at the lawyer, then obliged. He followed the guard through countless locked gates and corridors until they entered a large square room furnished with round tables and chairs. The place was empty and a faint odor of cold tobacco was floating in the air.

“I remind you that you’re not allowed to give him anything. If you do, we’ll take it away and he’ll be disciplined. You’ll be banned from visiting him again too. You can smoke and eat though,” the guy explained to Trunks.

The rattling of keys echoed at the other side of the room and another door opened. A second guard showed up and Trunks’ blood froze at Goten’s figure behind him.

“Here we are, gentlemen. Half an hour. We’ll be just behind the doors,” Goten’s escort claimed.

Goten took a few steps inside the room and paused. Trunks couldn't get his eyes off of him.

For some reason, he had expected his friend to be dressed in some prisoner’s outfit, but he was simply wearing a grey T-shirt with long white sleeves and canvas pants. He looked as normal as ever except for his hair which was longer than in Trunks' memories.

And the first thing Trunks thought was how good it felt to see him again. The feeling that he’d sorely missed him overwhelmed Trunks and he suddenly urged to hug him. It wasn’t the right time, nor the right place though. Trunks was pretty sure that the guards were watching them and he didn’t want them to witness their intimacy.

Goten was staring back at him, his eyes reflecting the very same happiness to be reunited with him, and just like Trunks, he seemed willing to repress any expression of his feelings. They were still close enough to reach an agreement without a single word. 

Trunks ended up talking. “How –“

He broke off at the sound of his own faltering voice though.

“I’m fine. Let’s sit down,” Goten answered calmly, guessing the question Trunks hadn’t asked.

They took place face to face at a table and kept quiet again for a moment, each one looking at the other with a sort of disbelief. The fact was that Trunks was completely unable to remember the last time they had met. He was embarrassed at that shameful memory lapse, especially now that he was facing the guy who’d been his inseparable half for years.

He eventually decided to break their emotional silence. “What happened to you? Your lawyer didn’t want to tell me.”

“Don’t talk that loud. They might be listening to us,” Goten whispered, lowering his head and leaning closer to him over the table.

Trunks instinctively watched around to scan the room for bugs, but he couldn’t see any. Goten’s hand grasping his drew his attention back to his friend and he turned back to him.

“I killed someone,” Goten murmured.

Trunks frowned in astonishment, leaning mindlessly closer to him as if he couldn’t hear him properly.

“It was an accident,” Goten added hastily, looking down sheepishly at the table.

Trunks blinked, too dumbfounded to say anything.

“I- huh – I threw a guy in the river. I – It’s – I didn’t mean to harm him, you know. I was pissed and I thought it was better than punching him right in the face, which would have killed him for sure.” Goten explained further in a low mumble.

He was clearly embarrassed, unable to look his friend in the eyes. Trunks was still speechless.

“I thought… Well, I thought he would just swallow some water then swim to the banks and get a good cold. Silly, I know. I was drunk.” Goten carried on.

Trunks had a hard time processing the story. Goten wasn’t the aggressive type. More the type to turn around and walk away. The other guy might have been a true ass.

“Anyway,” Goten sighed, “I need you to help me out cause I won’t hold on very long in there.”

His tone was heartbreaking. Trunks could feel his suffering and the place looked even more awful all of a sudden. “Don’t tell anyone anything. I’ll get you the best criminal lawyers in town and we figured…”

Goten pressed his hand again and shook his head. “I don’t need a lawyer. I need Shenron.”

Trunks frowned in puzzlement at the words. “Shenron? What for?”

Goten leaned a bit closer so that he was whispering in Trunks’ ear. “They haven’t found the body now because of the rise in the level of the river. The guy could still show up safe and sound.”

Trunks pulled slowly away from him, staring at him in disbelief. “You want me to…”

Goten nodded silently.

Trunks ran his hand through his hair. “Jeez. Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“It would get me out of here. Legally,” Goten uttered.

Trunks felt uncomfortable at the idea. Something was bothering him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He was hesitant to accept, searching his brain for another option.

“You’re the only one I can ask something like that,” Goten resumed.

Trunks looked up at him and he realized that no one in the Son family knew about Goten’s situation. “You didn’t even call Gohan, did you?”

Goten’s face twisted into a scowl. “He would freak out.”

“I do freak out, in case you're wondering,” Trunks pointed out.

Goten stared at him and a shy smile stretched his lips. “Yeah, but you’ll eventually suck it up and you'll do it for me.”

For a brief moment, Trunks wondered if he should take his friend’s words as a token of trust or if the younger male was playing him. But then, he realized that the question was stupid because he was dealing with Goten and Goten would never need to play him to get his help.

As a matter of fact, Goten was right. The more Trunks mulled over the idea of bringing the guy back to life, the less shocking it felt. Everything would come back in place. The guy would be safe and Goten would be free.

And even if Goten was wrong, what choice do they have anyway? A trial? An escape? Goten’s life would be ruined and there was no way Trunks would let it happen.

It was simple and it would be done in no time. Get the radar. Get the dragon balls. Make the wish. If Trunks rushed it, it could be done in a day.

After that, it would be their secret and their lives would keep going on.

Trunks became aware that Goten was still holding his hand and he gently gripped his friend’s fingers in return. The deal was done.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but necessary chapter.

Despite the close end of the day, the sun was still bright and hot. Trunks dropped his backpack with a weary sigh.

Wiping his sweaty forehead, he scanned the wide field of weeds lying in front of him and the small hills standing in the distance. Except for the crickets chirping, everything was quiet with no human life around.

Bulma’s radar was now useless and he pocketed it with some relief. He’d stolen the device in his mother’s lab the previous night after his visit at the prison and he’d left his home at dawn to gather the balls.

He hadn’t told Marron anything of course. He hadn’t told anyone anything. Even his secretary believed he was attending an informal meeting with a mysterious potential client. He had also taken care to keep his ki at bay the whole time so that anyone would wonder about his energy oddly wandering across the world.

He was pretty satisfied with his schedule in the end. He’d been in a rush since the morning and he had been lucky enough to wrap his hunt up in a single day.

Yet, now that his brain was done focusing on the next ball, he was having a sort of second thought again. Was it right to do this?

Maybe the guy wasn’t even dead. Trunks couldn’t help but hope so. It would spare him some headache. He was no fool though. Goten had said the man had died and the chances that Goten had been mistaken were slim.

Hell, as bothering as it sounded, the guy certainly needed to be brought back.

Thinking of it, he had died in a very unfair manner after all and whoever he was, he deserved a second chance. His turning back would get also Goten out of that awful stinky jail.

Trunks couldn’t pinpoint what bothered him there.

He bent down and opened his bag. He hesitated and instead of pulling the balls out of it, he took a bottle of water and swallowed down half of it in long gulps.

Goten had screwed up, but it wasn’t like he was a murderer, Trunks reminded himself while wiping his mouth with his forearm. In normal times, Goten wouldn’t even lose his nerves that way. He had been drunk - that’s what he’d said - and it was certainly the reason why he’d acted so mindlessly. Maybe, Trunks should watch him out a little.

His inner debate was interrupted by a presence next to him. He slowly turned his head and found out with some astonishment that Piccolo was quietly standing by his side. Trunks hadn’t perceived his arrival and yet, there he was with crossed arms contemplating the hills in the distance as if nothing else existed.

Trunks tensed at the sight and the faint movement seemed to draw the Namekian’s attention. Piccolo’s eyes slowly shifted to the young man, his face as emotionless as ever. “Using the dragon again, huh?” he mumbled as a greeting.

Trunks frowned as he sensed a slight accusation in the statement and he assumed at once that Piccolo knew exactly what he was about to wish for.

The Namekian had always stood as one of the few people that were able to cow Trunks, mostly because it was impossible to predict his thoughts or acts. The green man always looked unaffected by the world around him but he had his own way to guess everything currently going on. When they were kids, Trunks and Goten had figured that out with a dear price.

“It’s about something very important,” Trunks claimed. His voice didn’t sound as confident as he’d intended though.

Piccolo huffed in disbelief and his gaze wandered back to the landscape. “It’s always about something important,” he groaned.

Trunks shifted in unease. Piccolo’s nonchalance hinted that he didn’t know what it was exactly about and how serious it was. But then, why was he even here in the first place? As usual, Trunks was confused by the Namekian’s attitude and he didn’t want to say too much. “Goten is in big trouble,” he just answered.

Piccolo sighed. “And who is to blame for that?”

Trunks grew nervous at the weird questioning. He still couldn’t see the point of it all. “No one is to blame. That’s why I’m going to fix it,” he mumbled in wariness.

Piccolo raised an eyebrow and turned to him. “Fix it? Really?” he said in a mocking tone.

Trunks cringed at the comment for it was mirroring his own doubt. Would the guy’s revival be enough to erase Goten’s misconduct?

“You’re aware I can watch you from the lookout, aren’t you?” Piccolo resumed.

Trunks glared at him. He should have known better. The Namekian knew everything and he’d been playing since the beginning. “Then why are you asking? Or do you intend to blackmail us maybe?” he snapped at the green man.

Piccolo had a slight frown at the suggestion. He didn’t answer at first and Trunks had the feeling he was debating with himself about something. “I had thought that I could talk you out of making your wish, but I realize it’s quite hopeless. Blackmail on the other end… Sounds good to me. Give me the radar, promise me that you won’t use the dragon balls anymore and I won’t say anything to anyone.”

Trunks gaped at the offer. Piccolo’s deal was totally unexpected and revolting, to say the least. “You must be kidding? Why would I do such a thing? I don’t get it.”

“You don’t need to get it. Do you want me to tell Gohan about his brother? Because I will. You boys are playing a fool’s game and it’s getting out of hand,” Piccolo scowled.

Trunks pinched his lips in annoyance. He felt like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Except he wasn’t a kid anymore and Goten was worth much more than a cookie jar. Sure, their idea to save his ass by bringing his victim back to life hadn’t been the most brilliant of all, but it wasn’t that bad either. “And what if we need the balls for an emergency or something?” he tried.

“Then, you can pick it up at the lockout. I’ll give it back.”

Trunks looked up at the Namekian. His black eyes were hard and relentless, locked on him in deep disapproval. What choice did Trunks have? None. He had definitely no will to deal with Gohan freaking out.

“Ok,” he sighed in resignation. He took the radar out of his pocket and handed it reluctantly to Piccolo.

The Namekian grabbed it without a single glance at Trunks. He didn’t wait any longer and started to ascent wordlessly in the sky.

As he watched him, Trunks felt somehow fooled. The green man had played him, slyly taking advantage of his dire situation. “And what if I need it again? What if I have serious troubles?” he spat angrily.

Piccolo didn’t look at him. The bastard didn’t even slow down. He just shrugged. “I guess, you’ll have to face them. It’s time to learn.”

“Assholes,” Trunks grumbled in frustration.

Fucking. Namekian.

The guy usually never cared for people’s business, but he was obviously glad to make an exception for Trunks. He had never liked him anyway. Trunks was so far from Gohan’s soft and righteous nature. Piccolo had always considered him as a spoiled brainless kid and it seemed that time hadn’t changed his mind.

“Screw him,” Trunks hissed under his breath as he hastily opened the bag. The balls rolled out of it in the burnt weeds and the bright sun was clouded in the blink of an eye.

The familiar figure of Shenron appeared in the sky and the dragon slowly lowered his huge head to Trunks’s level. “You again? What is it you wish for?” his hollow voice asked.

Trunks swallowed hard at the impressive sight. Although he'd done that countless times, he still couldn’t help but break a cold sweat each time he faced the giant beast. His mouth was dry but he braced himself to speak. “I want you to revive the guy Goten threw in the river and I want you to erase his memories of his fight with Goten.”

The dragon’s eyes glowed briefly. “Granted,” he announced.

Shenron looked thoughtfully at Trunks for a minute, then he vanished in a flash, forcing him to close his eyes at the dazzling light.

When Trunks opened them again, the crystal balls had turned into stones and the sun was back to his usual brightness.

He glanced quickly at his watch. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath.

He packed his thing back and rocketed to the sky to turn back to West City.

He couldn’t afford to come back home too late. Marron would ask questions and she had a sort of sixth sense when he lied to her - Or maybe, he was unable to lie to her properly which sounded strange because he was the best at lying to anyone else.

Anyway, whenever he came home late and she was done with the kids’ routine, she always cared to take a private moment with him to hear about his day and if such a talk was to take place tonight, he stood no chance to fool her.

He had parked his car at the entrance of the town. He just had time to get back to it and drive across West City's painful traffic all by changing his clothes before it was dinner time.

Marron gave him a beam as he stormed into the kitchen with his tie undone. She was sitting at the dinner table with the kids.

“Already? You should have told me that you were to come home so early,” she greeted him while Berry jumped out of her chair to embrace him.

“Huh, yeah. The guys I met had to fly back earlier than scheduled,” he replied, taking his daughter in his arms.

“Berry, don’t leave the table during the meal,” Marron berated the girl.

“Mum’s right. Go sit back. I must take a shower but I join you in a minute,” Trunks approved halfheartedly with a peck on the child’s cheek.

He let Berry down and glanced at his son’s hair. He noted with some satisfaction that the blond streak was seemingly gone.

“Hurry,” Marron pouted.

He rushed upstairs to his room and slammed the door behind him. He felt drained. He took a quick sniff at his shirt and shrunk his nose. As expected, he was reeking way too much for someone attending a simple business meeting and it was a detail Marron wouldn’t have missed.

He stripped off and showered. When he was done, he put the casual clothing he’d been wearing the whole day in a plastic bag and stuffed it in the briefcase he used for work. Then, sitting on the bed with his towel knotted around his waist, he reviewed his plan to check out for any clue he could have neglected.

The only clue that would always remain was Piccolo. Trunks really hoped that he would keep his damn green mouth shut. He still wondered why the Namekian had deemed it smart to get in his way in the first place. Why the hell did he take the radar? Bulma might figure out one way or another. Trunks would have to deal with that too.

His phone dragged him out of his reflections. As soon as his eyes locked on the identity of the caller, he grabbed the device nervously.

“Mr. Briefs? Do I bother-“

“What’s up Mrs. Zuliguiev?” he cut off.

“You won’t believe it. Something unhoped-for happened – I don’t know –“

“What?” he asked briskly.

“Mr. Son is about to be released. He won’t be charged. The alleged victim showed up safe and sound, claiming he had no memories of any fight with him.”

Trunks ran his hand through his hair with a deep sigh of relief.

“I don’t know how you did that, Mr. Briefs, but I’m pretty sure you got something to do with it,” the lawyer resumed.

Trunks gritted his teeth. “Cut the crap. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. When will he be out?”

Zuliguiev was the one to give a deep sigh this time. “Late tonight. I’d say in two or three hours.”

“Let him know I’ll pick him up,” Trunks claimed.

He hung up even before the lawyer could add any sly comment. Damn, he hated the woman.

He let himself fall backward on the mattress. His heart was racing. He’d made it. Goten was safe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to update. Times are exhausting and stressful and it doesn't help writing. I have some vacation ahead so I hope the next chapter will be quicker. Take care and enjoy.

They hugged that time. As they met in the deserted parking lot near the massive gate guarding the prison, the thick night shielded them from prying eyes and they hugged without a second thought.

The embrace felt natural. Obvious. The warmth of Goten’s body contrasting with the freshness of the air, the force of his grip, the reality of his touch, Trunks had longed for all of them. He’d needed it. It was oddly comforting like something familiar in a foreign world.

They held each other a long silent moment, expressing something they couldn't word until Goten eventually pulled away and gently forced Trunks to let go of him. “Trunks,” he called softly.

Trunks was numb though, oblivious of where they were and why they were here. He hardly heard his name when his friend spoke it.

“Trunks, I'm starving,” Goten insisted with an amused smile.

The statement somehow connected Trunks back to reality. He blinked and smiled back. “Sure. Let's go take a huge bite, then.”

He had flown half the way to the prison to gain some time and he'd rented a car to drive the rest of the time so that his arrival would look as normal as possible.

Goten threw his bag in the backseat and slumped in the passenger seat with a tired sigh. “Great. You got a car. I certainly don't feel like flying my way to West City.”

“You want us to drive the whole way back?” Trunks asked. He was surprised that his friend didn't mind the waste of time.

“Why not? Are you in a hurry? Does- she wait for you?” Goten mumbled carelessly.

“Marron? Huh, no, no. We’ll do as you like,” Trunks shrugged as he started the motor.

Goten grinned at him in satisfaction. “Cool. But first, we find a place to eat.” With that, he turned the radio on until he found some music that fitted his mood and he started mimicking a drummer's game in rhythm.

Trunks felt a mix of relief and happiness seeing him like that. Goten was still the same mindless, crazy clown as ever. How was it that Trunks had never noted how sorely he had missed him all these years? How could he even hesitate to summon Shenron to get him out of that nasty prison? Fortunately, everything was definitely back in order - Provided Piccolo would keep his mouth shut like he’d promised he would. Trunks wondered if he should tell Goten about the Namekian.

“There!” Goten shouted all of a sudden, pointing at a huge panel on the side of the road claiming they'd find a nice restaurant open until midnight a few kilometers further.

“All right, all right. Calm down. We'll stop there,” Trunks chuckled.

The place was a roadside driver built in the middle of a huge parking lot filled with long rows of trucks.

The restaurant wasn't very crowded at such a late hour since most of the customers were back to their cabs. There was only a handful of guys finishing their meals or having a last drink. A mouthwatering smell was floating in the air and caused Goten’s stomach to gurgle.

Trunks repressed a smirk and they picked up the first free booth near the door.

“You have no idea of what they serve in prison. To be honest, I don't either. I never could quite identify what was on my plate,” Goten sighed as he browsed eagerly the menu.

“It's ok, Goten. You're out now. Want to tell me what happened exactly?” Trunks replied, his wary eyes locked on his friend.

“Steak, yeah. I feel like meat, loads of meat,” Goten commented.

An old man posted himself next to the table with a pad. “Good evening, gentlemen. What can I do for you?” he greeted.

“I'll just have a cup of tea, but my friend here wants to eat,” Trunks explained.

“Steaks. Three of them,” Goten confirmed with an excited grin.

The waiter raised an eyebrow. “Hm. Okay. What do you want with that? Salad, fries, vegetables?”

“All of them,” Goten replied without a second thought.

The waiter noted down the command carefully with a twisted smile. “Someone hasn't eaten properly in a long time,” he mumbled under his breath.

He had guessed that Goten was a freshly released prisoner of the jail nearby and he was willing to let his guests know about it, as a warning that they’ll find him in their way if they were troublemakers. Trunks didn’t miss the hint.

And neither did Goten. His cheer was gone in the blink of an eye and his features hardened in an unusual way. “Add a beer to wash it down,” he snorted briskly.

The waiter nodded and walked away wordlessly.

“Don’t let that prick ruin your mood,” Trunks said in a low, sorry voice.

“I never let pricks ruin my mood,” Goten grunted with a shrug.

Trunks frowned at the words. He couldn’t help but think of the man his friend had thrown in the river. Was it the way Goten was now used to deal with pricks? Certainly not. He was just a bit upset and exhausted for now. He had spent some rough days after all.

As a matter of fact, Goten was quickly back to his natural, happy-go-lucky smile. “Tell me about you. We haven't seen each other for a long time. Still married?”

Trunks flinched at the unexpected and ruthless question, but before he could think of an answer, his friend added with a nervous chuckle, “Just kidding, dude. How’s family?”

Their talk was interrupted by the waiter coming back with their command. The man put all the dishes down on the table, calmly ignoring Goten’s glare. However, much to Trunks’ relief, he didn’t make any other comment about them and as soon as he was gone, Goten got started on his diner.

He was devouring the food with some kind of hopelessness. It was so much like him and yet, Trunks was sadly aware that his voracity also spoke volume about what he’d been through.

Goten hadn’t said much about the reasons for his troubles and Trunks was curious to hear about them, but he didn’t want to ruin their reunion by asking questions his friend obviously didn’t want to answer, so he decided to stick to their previous discussion. “Kids are growing up and so does the Capsule, so you know there’s not a lot to say. Your life is certainly much more interesting. Where do you live now?”

Goten shrugged and swallowed what he was munching. “Huh, I’ve been moving up and there over the years, but I’m currently living in an apartment in the South of West City. Well, I guess I should rather say I _was_ living there.”

Trunks frowned. “What happened? Did you lose the apartment while in prison?”

Goten shook his head. “My roommate is the guy I threw in the river, so it wouldn’t be very smart to turn back there.”

For some reason, Trunks had imagined that the man in question had just been some random guy Goten had met in a bar. The matter sounded actually a bit more complicated. He would definitely have to clear things out. “You know the guy doesn’t remember anything about your fight, don’t you?” he pointed out softly.

Goten huffed. “He might not remember, but I do and I don’t want to go through shits again. It’s best for me to take a hotel somewhere, I’ll figure something later.”

Trunks raised his eyebrows. “A hotel? Silly. We have a guest house. You can come and stay there for as long as you want. The place is totally separate from our home. You’ll have your privacy and nothing to worry about.”

For the first time, Goten lost any interest in eating and he focused on his friend instead. “I’m not sure Marron would like it,” he stated with a hint of wariness in his voice.

Trunks felt lost. “Why not? Why do you think… Marron likes you,” he objected matter-of-factly.

“Does she? Even after the disaster at the wedding?” Goten asked in disbelief.

Trunks sighed in weariness. He had to admit that Goten had really screwed up that day and Marron had a hard time getting over it. Still, it was old history now. “The wedding? Man, it was ages ago. Do you really think that she’s still resentful about that crap? For God’s sake! You of all people know her better than that!”

Goten looked thoughtful for a moment and Trunks was surprised to realize that he was still reluctant to believe him. “Goten-“

“Does she know you’re with me right now?” Goten cut off.

Trunks shifted at the question. The discussion was puzzling. Marron was Goten’s childhood friend as much as Trunks’ and Trunks didn’t understand why Goten would think she hated him. “Of course, she knows. And she’s fine with that,” he claimed.

“She… she knows?” Goten groaned defensively.

Trunks sighed. “I didn’t tell her that I had to pick you up in some shithole of a jail of course, but I told her you had problems and that I had to go see you. And guess what, she found it quite normal.”

The nervousness painted on Goten’s face slowly gave way to a kind of amusement. A faint smirk twisted his lips. “Oh, so I do have problems. What kind?”

Trunks smiled too. “Heartbreak, I fear. Not very original, I know. I told her your girlfriend left you.”

Goten chuckled. “Damn. Let’s hope she’ll never learn that I’m into guys, then.”

Trunks froze in shock. Goten was into guys. Had Trunks ever known that fact? Had he forgotten? How could he not know?

 _Goten into guys_. His mind kept repeating the sentence, unsure of how to process it. Then, suddenly the picture of Goten leaning forward to him and kissing him flashed in his brain. It was very quick, but it was vivid and it came with a wave of weird sensations. It almost felt like memories, except it had never happened. It was disturbing but Trunks quickly berated himself for being so tight-up. He shouldn’t react that way. It wasn’t a big deal. Goten would always be Goten.

“Are you still there?” Goten asked.

Trunks rubbed his eyelids. “Well, yeah, I’m just… huh… realizing that I’ll have to fix up my excuse about this girlfriend/boyfriend thing. Marron is a lie detector with legs. But my offer is still serious. I promise she won’t mind and as I said, the guest house is separate from our home anyway.”

Goten pinched his lips and resumed his meal wordlessly.

“So?” Trunks insisted.

“You know… I’m not sure it’s a good idea anyway. You have your life and all. I don’t want to bother you. Maybe I should just go back to Mount Paozu,” Goten mumbled.

An unexpected fear washed over Trunks at this answer, but he couldn’t explain why. The only thing he knew was that for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to let his friend go away. He hadn’t seen him in years and if he had to be honest, he hadn’t really given him much thought but all of a sudden, he couldn’t stand the idea of losing him again. “What the heck will you do in Mount Paozu? Grow beans? Don’t shit me Goten. I don’t know what happened to you, but you need a break. I’m your friend and I’ll make sure that you’ll get it.”

Goten blinked. He was still hesitant but Trunks knew his words had hit a nerve nevertheless.

“Come on, you won’t bother me. In a way, I need a break too and you might be a break like no other, don’t you think? Like in the old time?” he added with a knowing smile to rub it in.

Goten grinned in return. It was enough to let Trunks know he'd caved in.

Trunks stood up and ruffled his friend’s mane. “Let me pay the bill. Finish your meal and I drive you home.”

He was feeling incredibly light as he walked to the counter. Excited. As excited as he used to be when he was a kid on the verge of starting a great adventure with his best friend.

He felt alive.


	5. Chapter 5

The dazzling daylight pouring from the half-opened shutters was cutting through the soothing dimness of the room. Goten’s back was sore from the night spent on the narrow sofa. He rolled on his side and scanned the small lounge with sleepy eyes.

The dark parquet floor was stylish and spotless while the carved wooden coffee table and the velvet armchairs completed the old-fashioned exotic touch of the place. If he hadn’t known he was somewhere in a select neighborhood of West City, he would have believed he was a paradise of the Southern State.

But all this was _only_ Trunks Briefs’ guest house.

A second knock broke the peaceful silence and Goten brought himself to leave the cozy warmth of his woolen blanket. Struggling up to his bare feet, he stretched out and rubbed his mane energetically in an attempt to wake up completely.

Trunks and he had eventually reached West City in the dead of the night and Goten hadn’t even bothered to undress before he’d dropped on the sofa of what might be his new home for now. He was wearing the same grey T-shirt with long sleeves he had put on for Trunks’ visit, actually the classiest thing he still had left.

He repressed a yawn and wearily made his way to the front door.

He had no idea of what time it was, but for some reason he had expected to find Trunks on the doorstep. The sight of Marron sobered him up.

She was standing right in front of him, alone, with a big basket hanging from her hands. As she smiled at him, her big black eyes were shining in true cheer. “Hey Goten. Were you still asleep?” she greeted with a soft voice.

He returned the smile but couldn’t prevent himself from clutching the doorknob a bit tighter than necessary. “Hey Marron. No… huh… yeah. I… What time is it?”

She chuckled gently. “Way past noon, but you can rest as much as you want. I just wanted to bring you some stuff you might need in the house,” she claimed, motioning at the basket.

“You shouldn’t bother-“ he tried to protest, but she was already entering the house.

“I don’t mind. Don’t worry. It’s really good to see you again. How long has it been?” she asked as she walked across the lounge and around the kitchen counter.

She rested the basket on the counter and started to empty it, sorting out its content carefully.

Goten closed the door in defeat and joined her. He climbed up on a stool on the other side of the counter and glimpsed at all the things she was taking out of the basket.

She looked up at him, holding a packet. “Coffee?”

“Would be great,” he nodded with a sheepish smile.

“You’re just like Trunks,” she mocked as she turned around to take care of the coffee maker.

Goten leaned his chin in his palm and watched her fix the coffee. She was wearing a simple denim skirt with a dark close-fitting sweater. Nothing astounding and yet, she was beautiful. She had always been. As a matter of fact, she certainly had inherited some cyber-genes from her mother because she hadn’t changed over the years. He could make out the godly curves of her body and her metallic blondness was still as fascinating as it used to be. The thought inspired him a slight sadness. He'd missed them more than he's thought.

“He told me about your girlfriend,” she resumed when she was done with the coffee maker.

Goten arched an eyebrow and straightened up. He needed a short moment to remember the lie Trunks had told her the night before.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else. I’m not worried. You deserve it. Have you been with her for a long time?” Marron carried on while putting the food away in the cabinets.

“Him,” Goten corrected hastily.

She stopped her gesture and whirled slowly around to stare at him in confusion.

“Him. It was a guy,” Goten clarified.

“Ho.” She paused and looked thoughtful for an instant. “I missed that point,” she eventually claimed, “Trunks didn’t tell me. So, was it a long relationship?”

Goten pouted and pointed at the coffee maker. “I think coffee’s ready.”

She didn’t move immediately though. She kept staring at him. “Excuse me. I shouldn’t have asked. We used to be so close that I didn’t think it through,” she said before taking care of the coffee.

The statement oddly touched him. She was right. They had once been close. The three of them. And yet somehow, as they grew up the three of them had often ended into a disaster of some sort. Like the wedding. Thinking of it, he felt ashamed to see her welcoming him so devotedly. “Don’t apologize. It’s just that I’m not in the mood to speak about it now. Thank you for letting me stay here,” he murmured sheepishly.

“Are you kidding? It’s natural. You can stay as long as you want,” she replied with a grin, handing him his cup of coffee.

He rubbed his head in awkwardness. “Still, it’s nice of you. I’m aware I screwed up at your wedding and -”

“Don’t talk about the wedding. Better forget about it,” she cut off.

Her eyes had hardened and her smile had faded in the blink of an eye. Goten tensed at her swing of mood. Trunks had obviously been wrong when he’d said Marron got over the events of the wedding.

She averted her eyes and rested the cup she was still holding. “I have sheets and blankets for you. You’ll find the bedding in the closet of the bedroom. Do you need something else?” she resumed in a flat voice.

“I don’t think so. Thank you,” he answered in unease.

She sighed and walked around the kitchen counter. “Trunks would be happy to have you for dinner tonight. Will you join us?”

He tilted his head and tried to meet her eyes but she was careful not to look at him. “You realize we never spoke about the wedding, don’t you?” he said.

The bold statement was enough to have her gaze up back at him.

“I won’t stay in that house if we don’t clear the air about it once and for all,” he claimed sternly.

She frowned at the ultimatum but she didn’t answer right away. She was nervously clasping her hand in indecision, obviously weighing the pros and the cons.

“I was drunk. I hardly remember the half of it, so if you never explain to me what I did wrong, I’ll never be able to apologize properly,” he insisted.

She eventually stepped to one of the armchairs and sat there hesitantly, as if on the verge of running away anytime. He stood up and joined her in the lobby to take place on the sofa facing her. Leaning forward to be closer to her, he rested his forearms and his knees and looked her straight in the eyes. Her orbs were icy cold and yet gleaming in anger as well. She reminded him very much of her mother with such an expression on her face. However, despite her dreadful mask, she also looked hurt and it was what worried him the most.

“Go on, I’m a big boy, I can take it all,” he added supportively.

She sneered bitterly. “I don’t even know where I shall start. What you certainly don’t remember is that we waited for the groom’s best man for an endless hour until Trunks eventually decided to pick up your brother as best man instead of you.”

Goten nodded. “That, I remember. Gohan took my place. Gohan’s a good choice too though.”.

He regretted his mindless comment at once as he noticed Marron’s annoyed scowl. “But it was you he wanted for this special day,” she hissed. “You failed him. You failed us both.”

Goten had never considered things that way because he’d always thought that having Gohan as best man hadn’t been so bad after all. Still, Marron sounded a bit dramatic about it. Goten braced himself to make a low profile anyway. “I’m sorry to hear that. I-“

“Cut it off. Gohan did great, that’s true. That’s not the worst part. Having you showing up completely wasted during the party was upsetting too, but still, I could have lived with it too,” she groaned.

Goten was listening carefully, trying hard to gather his memories of that day. They were foggy and distant. For some reason, he’d felt bad weeks before the wedding and he'd drunk a lot the day of the wedding. He had eventually joined the party nevertheless. He remembered that he’d fooled around but he couldn’t say exactly what he’d done.

She sighed and crossed her arms. “The speech, however.”

He blinked in confusion at the words.

She was glaring at him. “You made a speech. I told Trunks to prevent you from doing so, but he was so happy to see you. You both were laughing like brainless kids. He didn’t expect to hear what you had to say though, that was for sure,” she resumed in a harsh voice.

Goten straightened up. He’d made a speech. He didn’t remember that. Trunks never spoke about it. As a matter of fact, it was pretty surprising because Goten hated to speak in public. “A speech? And… what did I say?”

She blurted a resentful chuckle. “Trunks told me countless times that you wouldn't remember your own words. Yet, my only concern has never been whether you remembered them, but whether you meant them. Because they were very, very… hurtful.”

Her voice faltered at that point and Goten felt suddenly sorry. “I never meant to hurt you, I can tell you so much,” he murmured apologetically.

She looked away and in the dim light, he had the sensation that she was trying not to cry. It was weird because Marron wasn’t very demonstrative. She had been very emotional as a kid, but as she grew up, she had turned as cold as her mother.

“Really? Then, let me tell you that you did all the same,” she replied, her voice back to calmness.

He stood up and walked closer to her armchair. He sat on the armrest and leaned over her. Then, running his hand through her locks he kissed her head softly. She shivered but didn’t return any sign of affection.

“I’m sorry, Marron. Will you tell me what I said?” he pressed in a whisper.

He couldn’t see her face and he assumed that she liked it better. She sighed. “You said - You said it was the saddest of your life, losing your friends to an unplanned baby, that we weren’t bound to marry just because of Vegeta’s birth and that we were going to ruin the lives of us all.”

A heavy silence followed her words. Goten was dumbfounded to hear about his own speech. He had to admit it was hard to take and he was a bit surprised that Trunks had never told him about it.

“You know me, Goten. I’ve never been the social type and I’ve never been able to befriend anyone except you two. Trunks and you are the only ones I ever cared for outside my family. You were everything to me and that day I had the feeling that I had lost you. Hearing that my happiness meant sadness to you ripped me apart,” Marron eventually resumed.

He gently slipped his arms around her shoulder and hugged her, her face still out of his view. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. You never lost me, don't let me lose you to my stupidity. I never wish you any harm, you know that?” he murmured.

She caressed his forearm. “I know, but still… I wonder…”

“Stop thinking about it. It doesn’t matter anyway. I screwed up while you did the right choice. You’re happy with Trunks and Berry is here too now,” Goten reasoned her kindly.

“And you’re back,” she concluded as she finally turned to him. “I had the feeling you’d drifted apart from us all these years as if you had meant these words that day.”

Goten smiled at her. “I told you, I didn’t remember what I said at the wedding. How could it be the cause of me running away? I wasn’t gone by the way. Just living my life a bit differently from you.”

She smiled back and the sight warmed Goten’s soul a bit. “I see. It feels good to hear it from you. So… Will you join us for dinner tonight?”

“Sure, blondie. Count me in,” he promised with a grin.


	6. Chapter 6

Goten’s life had somehow screwed up. He just couldn’t say when or why. Yet he’d been a good kid - Not a brilliant student like his brother, but still a nice, cheerful little boy. However, he must have lost his innocence somewhere on the way because there he was, a homeless parasite without any plan for his own life whatsoever, drowning his bitterness in a lousy bar downtown in West City.

If anything, his dinner with Trunks and Marron had been a glaring proof of his every failure. Their cute family and their cozy house oozed a happiness Goten had never known since the end of his childhood. It wasn't their lifestyle Goten envied though – he loved freedom far too much for that – It was more about their personal balance. They obviously had that strong feeling that they knew where they belonged and where they were going and this special feeling had always been something precious and unreachable to Goten.

Although he wasn’t the jealous type, seeing them so fulfilled and oblivious of their own luck, had felt sort of suffocating. He hadn't been able to bear with the sight for more than an hour and when he had been offered a desert, he'd declined, pretending he had to go to meet some friend of his.

A lie, of course, Goten had hardly any real friends. Acquaintances, occasional lovers, drinking buddies, he had plenty of them, but with some hindsight, save for Trunks, he had no true friend. The disappointment on his face when Goten had left had been all the more unsettling.

The blissful atmosphere had been too much though.

Goten downed another glass. He wasn’t exactly drunk at that point but he’d stopped feeling the burn of alcohol down his throat and stomach. He was sitting alone in the crowded bar, ignoring the hubbub and waiting for the drinks to numb his train of thoughts.

A skinny waitress with cropped dark hair and a shiny piercing in her nose showed up and took the empty glasses away. “Goten, my, it’s been a while,” she greeted with a wide grin.

She leaned down to him and whispered in his ear. “Seo is looking for you everywhere. Did you argue again?”

He arched an innocent eyebrow. “Let’s say that our last talk didn’t end so well,” he answered nonchalantly.

She chuckled. “You should make efforts sometimes. This guy is damn hot.”

He shrugged. “That’s the problem. He knows he is. Get me three other ones, will you?”

She pouted playfully. “Huh, a big argument, then?” she commented before walking away to fetch his command.

As Goten’s eyes wandered through the packed room of the bar, a familiar figure drew his attention. A boy with an unmistakable mane was sitting a few tables away among a group of noisy guys.

Goten squinted and watched them from afar. The boy looked so much like his grandfather that it was confusing. Seeing him interacting with people like someone normal made the resemblance even more disturbing. The guys surrounding him were obvious scums, older than him and taking advantage of Vegeta’s will to show off.

The teenager was drinking alcohol, speaking loudly and trying to act manfully. He’d certainly sneaked out without his parents knowing. It was funny somehow.

“There you are my Lord,” the waitress said as she came back with Goten’s drinks.

“Tell me something. You have some underage customers over there, don’t you?” Goten pointed out.

The woman followed his gaze and spotted Vegeta’s group. “Huh, well, the boss has a few connections with the local police, so as long as they pay, we don’t kick them out.”

Goten nodded. “See this one with the crazy hair? I can tell you he’s only fifteen.”

She tilted her head and scrutinized the boy’s face in the distance. “Maybe. As the boss said I’m no social worker anyway. All I know is that he got some good cash and he leaves great tips,” she eventually shrugged.

She looked down at Goten with a slight frown. “You haven’t got into teenagers, have you?”

He rolled his eyes and waved her away. “Just let me know if you see Seo around.”

As she went away with a small laugh to serve someone else, Goten kept staring at the group. The boys were fooling around and he could say Vegeta was pretty wasted already. His ki was brighter than the others but the kid didn’t even seem to be aware of having any ki at all. Trunks had told him that Marron wanted the kids to have a life as normal as possible, so it was likely that Vegeta hadn’t been taught about fighting. Goten had the feeling that Trunks didn’t quite agree with the idea and most of all, Goten wondered what the Prince of all Saiyans thought about that principle.

When Vegeta stood up, his unsteady balance proved Goten right. Goten didn’t lose sight of him as he stumbled his way through the crowded room to the restroom.

When two of his friends started following him from afar, Goten sighed in defeat. He knew better than letting this kind of guys join a drunk, fifteen-year-old with pockets full of money in the nasty toilets of that bar. He struggled to his feet and made his way through the packed drinkers.

As he opened the door of the restroom, a yelp was already echoing. One of the guys had pinned Vegeta against the tiled wall while the other was rummaging through his pockets, his victim's phone already in his hand.

Trunk’s son was shouting in protest, but he was obviously too sloshed to realize exactly what was on.

Goten grasped the wrist of the thief and snatched the phone out of his hand. “Excuse me, guys, I don’t think this is yours.”

The guy holding Vegeta glared at him. “Hey dude, what do you think you’re doing?” he hissed threateningly.

Goten shoved his companion away so brutally that his back smashed against the opposite wall. “Cleaning a bit. What do you think _you_ ’re doing?”

As a reply, the other one let go of Vegeta and ran away, helping his friend up to his feet on his way.

After checking they were gone for good, Goten turned to Vegeta. The boy was staring at him with widened eyes. Goten handed the phone back to him. “That’s yours, right?”

Vegeta didn’t bother taking the device. He pointed a trembling finger at Goten. “You… You’re my Dad’s friend,” he slurred in disbelief.

“Goten. My name’s Goten.” Goten sighed patiently.

“These guys… why the hell did you…” the kid stammered further.

“These guys were emptying your pocket, moron. Come on, I think fun is over. Let me take you home,” Goten offered while grabbing the boy’s arm.

“Let go of me, I can walk,” Vegeta objected.

Goten didn’t obliged and he held him tight as the kid took a first step to the exit. Vegeta paused immediately and rubbed his forehead in unease.

“Something wrong, I guess? That’s why I’m here. Come on,” Goten stated with an amused smile.

He called a taxi and helped the boy out of the bar. Goten wondered if Vegeta had done this before – sneaking out and getting drunk in bars downtown. He looked pretty clueless about booze or hanging around with the wrong people.

When the taxi left them in front of Trunks’ house, Goten almost had to drag the boy to the front door. He had been mumbling senseless things all along but he was eventually able to word something clear as they reached the porch. “I’m gonna be sick,” he groaned all of a sudden, and with that, he dropped on his knees and puked in the neat flowerbed.

Goten grunted in annoyance. Seeing a plastered lookalike of Vegeta had been pretty funny so far, but that was more than Goten had bargained for. He was reluctant to wake Trunks and Marron up though.

While the boy was emptying his guts in the petunias, Goten crouched down next to him and went through his pockets until he found his keys.

He unlocked the door and waited for the teenager to be done. His childish face was pale and sweaty and for the first time Vegeta looked at him with some lucidity. He wiped his lips with his sleeve and asked. “Are you going to tell –“

“Get up and don’t make any noise,” Goten cut off in a flat voice.

The teenager nodded and obliged as fast as he could. His steps were still unsteady and Goten had to support him through the dark house.

He didn’t know the place very well and once upstairs, he let Vegeta show him the way. As they were in the middle of a square hall, heading for a door that was supposed to be the boy’s bedroom, someone switched up the light.

Vegeta got startled and Goten realized he was even paler than he’d thought.

Trunks blinked at the sight of the two of them entangled in a clumsy embrace and he stood numb for a second, with nothing on save for large pajama pants. The picture was rather funny.

“I found your son in case you were looking for him,” Goten whispered jokingly.

He could tell from Trunks’ face that his friend was in no mood for a joke though. He just glared at his son.

Like a reply to his father's disapproving scowl, Vegeta suddenly rushed to the door of his bedroom and stormed inside. A disgusting throaty noise let them know that his stomach was getting purged again.

Trunks crossed his arms and stared wordlessly at Goten.

“I stumbled across him in a bar downtown,” Goten clarified.

Trunks sighed. “I’ll take care of him, thank you.”

“Ho, he messed up the flowers in the garden too,” Goten added.

Trunks rolled his eyes. “Marron can’t see that. I’ll tend to it thank you.”

Goten nodded and watched his friend disappear into his son’s room. Making his way downstairs and through the front door, he was about to go back to his own house but he eventually decided to wait for Trunks to make sure the kid was all right.

He sat down on the steps of the porch and enjoyed the peace of the cool night. The neighborhood was definitely a quiet one, nothing near the districts Goten had lived in so far.

It took some time before Trunks showed up. He had slipped on a dark robe but he hadn’t bothered tying it or putting a shirt on.

“Is he Ok?” Goten asked.

Trunks raised an eyebrow at the question. “I thought you’d be gone. Don’t worry, he’ll make it through. It will serve him right.”

Goten chuckled. “That’s mean.”

“It is indeed.” Trunks said with a smirk. “Vegeta isn’t an easy kid either.”

He stepped down to the lawn and grabbed the hose lying in the grass. He turned it on and hosed the filth away.

Goten was observing him. His chest was naked underneath his open robe and just like Marron, he hadn’t changed over the years. He was always as hot as ever. Goten forced his embarrassing thought away. “Do you wanna have a last drink at my place before you go back?” he offered.

“Why not. I won’t be able to go back to sleep right now anyway,” Trunks answered absently, focused on his doing.

Goten stood up and came nearer to help his friend check out for any trace of his son’s misfit. “I think it will be ok,” he stated.

Trunks sighed. “Huh. I’m pretty sure Marron will notice it anyway. I’ll have to figure some excuse.”

Goten realized that Trunks sounded used to serve his wife with small lies. He’d said she was a lie detector with legs but he seemed to deal with it pretty well.

“Come on, forget it for now,” Goten said with a grin.

Trunks smiled back and followed him through the garden to the guest house after putting the hose down.

“I have no booze here,” Goten claimed as he rummaged through the cabinets Marron had filled for him. “I guess Marron didn’t deem it necessary.”

Trunks chuckled. “Marron certainly didn’t but I brought you a bottle of wine. I put it under the sink while you were away.”

Goten blinked in surprise and stared at his friend in bewilderment.

“As a welcome gift,” Trunks added with a shrug.

Goten disliked wine but he didn’t mention it and just beamed at his friend. He took the bottle out of his hide-out and joined Trunks in the lounge.

“So, what was it you were doing in the bar where you found Vegeta? Meeting your friend?” Trunks resumed.

“My friend?” Goten asked while struggling with the corkscrew.

“The one you said you had to see when you left,” Trunks clarified all by taking the bottle and the corkscrew out of his clumsy friend’s hands.

Goten was caught off guard. He’d forgotten about his lame lie. Trunks hadn’t, apparently. “Huh – This friend – Well…“ he stammered loosely.

Trunks stopped what he was doing and looked up at him. “Is it your – boyfriend?”

Goten had a nervous laugh. “No, no. No boyfriend for now. Huh, it was just – He didn’t show up ultimately.”

He felt terribly uncomfortable because of both his poor gift for lies and Trunks’ persistent questioning.

Trunks pretended not to notice. He simply uncorked the bottle skillfully and filled the glasses, but Goten knew him enough to understand he had seen him through and he felt bad because he also knew Trunks enough to understand he was hurt by the lie.

Goten sighed. He had to make it up for his foolishness, but he couldn’t tell Trunks that he hadn’t enjoyed their dinner. “I have to get my stuff back from my previous apartment and I was hoping to find my roommate in that bar and make sure I wouldn't stumble across him at the apartment,” he eventually claimed. This time wasn’t exactly a lie, because Goten had this idea in mind when he had stepped into the bar, even though it came across his mind only after he had left Trunks and Marron behind.

Trunks arched an eyebrow. “Huh, you know I can help you with that. I can go with you.”

Goten sipped his wine and repressed a grimace. He definitely hated wine. “You don’t need to bother. Don’t worry I’ll find a solution.”

“I don’t mind,” Trunks insisted. “Plus, I am your friend, so I am supposed to be a solution, right?”

A warm smile was adorning his face. Once again, Goten became aware of how gorgeous he was. His words made so much sense at that moment. He was his solution.

The picture of their lips connecting in a heated kiss crossed his mind in a sudden flash and Goten had to avert his eyes to block it. He couldn’t think of Trunks like this.

“What do you think? We could do it tomorrow. I don’t work tomorrow,” Trunks resumed.

“Yeah, tomorrow will be great,” Goten murmured, his eyes locked away. He was disturbed by the lewd thoughts assailing him. He was fighting them forcefully, reminding himself of his friend’s engagement.

He eventually gazed back up to Trunks. “You never told me about my speech at your wedding,” he claimed accusingly.

Trunks looked daunted by the statement. “Your speech? I told you it was long ago –“

“I had a talk with Marron today. I never remembered my words but she repeated them to me and Trunks, let’s be honest, even if I was drunk, I have been a real jerk,” Goten said.

Trunks had a nervous chuckle and ran his hand through his lock. He looked so damn hot when he did that that Goten had to take a silent deep breath.

“I got over it, but if apologizing makes you feel better, I don’t mind,” Trunks replied mischievously.

His tone was playful, but Goten didn’t feel in a playful mood. He was struggling with that unexpected attraction seizing him all by wondering if he hadn’t meant what he’d said at the wedding. And now Trunks was pretending all this didn’t matter.

“I don’t want to apologize, Trunks. You clearly don’t need apologies anyway, do you?”

Goten was dead serious and Trunks’ smile dropped to give way to a sort of concern.

“What I want is to hear how you feel about what I said,” Goten carried on.

Trunks shrugged in unease. “Hek. I don’t feel anything, Goten. What do you expect me to say?”

Goten knew his friend’s acting was fake. There was something about him that didn’t feel right. Something didn’t match his true self. Goten leaned closer to him and instinctively reached out for his hand. He stopped his gesture at the last minute and gave up to the dangerous closeness. “Did you marry Marron because of Vegeta’s birth?”

Trunks tensed at the question. He scowled silently in an unsettled mask at first. Unconsciously, he ran his hand through his hair again. “How can you ask me something like this?” he eventually murmured with his eyes glued down to his glass.

“Because I’m your friend. I’m the only one who would dare asking such a question,” Goten retorted without a second thought.

Trunks looked up at him. His features were unreadable again. “Considering Vegeta was already five years old when we married, I think you got your answer. I don’t even get why you’re wondering such a thing,” he pointed out.

Goten suddenly felt stupid. He hadn’t mused about that fact, but Trunks was right. The kid had been born for five long years before Marron and Trunks decided to get married. The timing didn’t match a hasty marriage only meant to keep up appearances.

Goten was definitely a moron and shame overwhelmed him at how mean he just had been. Maybe he was indeed jealous. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to question your love for her. I – I’m a dumbass and I just wanted to be sure that you were really happy.”

Trunks broke into a soft smile. “I am, Goten. And now that you’re back, I don’t miss anything.”


End file.
